Summer Lightning (9 page)

“Miaow!”

“I love being catty. Look, here comes, Robert.”

He was trying to join them, but Louise put out her left hand and stopped him.

“You were marvelous, darling. Utterly devastating.”

Robert preened himself a little. He had in fact scored twice and was no more averse to a little flattery than the rest of his sex. But his eyes strayed over to where Chloe sat with Mark. What he really wanted was to go along and hear
her
say how marvelous he had been.

Louise may have seen; at any rate she forestalled him.

“Sit down here next to me, my pet. You shall do a running commentary on the next chukker for us. We can’t hear a word the announcer says.”

Robert glanced ruefully at Chloe, who wasn’t, however, looking his way, and with as good a grace as he could muster he sat down next to Louise.

Chloe had just caught sight of Dominic, coming toward her in a purposeful manner. She went through the usual disconcerting moments of heart-swerve, quickened breathing, deepening color. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Enjoying it, Chloe?”

“Enormously, thanks.” She had herself in hand now.

“Understand the game?”

“Yes—I used to go quite often in the summer to Cowdray to watch them play. I was born not so far away, you know.”

“Were you, indeed? I’m a Sussex man myself on my English side.”

“I know. Mark told me.”

There was a sudden bright ripple of excited laughter from the rails as the teams rode out.

“I see ‘the Fishing Fleet’ is here in force today,” Dominic said, adding dryly, “I’m told polo’s a great breeder of romance here.”

“Is it?” Chloe answered coolly.

“You wouldn’t know?” He sounded amused. “Not interested in the prospects of romance and marriage, Chloe?”

“Are you?” she countered, trying to seem as casual as he was—for how, she asked herself, could she have let herself care so desperately, with so very little encouragement?

“ ‘He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief,’ ” he quoted lightly. “Bacon, in case you didn’t know. I must say I couldn’t agree more. Look, I’ll have to be off. Must get over to the saddling lines. Wish me luck.”

“The best. Make sure you score.”

He walked off with his long, easy stride and she sat there thinking with mortification of what he had just said.

She had an uneasy feeling that somehow she had given herself away to him. Was he perfectly well aware how strongly he attracted her? And was this his way, oblique but perhaps meant to be kind, of warning her off?

The thought hurt her pride, but then she comforted herself—Dominic wasn’t the kind of man to go around thinking women were in love with him, or noticing if they were.

Despite her resolve to try to get over him, when the players rode out for the next match it was for his tall, slim figure that she looked. She saw him move onto the field on a gray, riding easily and well—as he seemed to do most things.

When the umpire threw in the ball and play began she watched him with such passionate intentness that it was as if her own body was rushing down the field with his. She caught her breath at each crisis in the game; her heart thudded in time with the thudding hoofbeats.

She saw him score brilliantly. When the crowd shouted bravo she shouted too. She was completely carried away. When the chukker ended she found she was shaking all over with the thrill of it.

After the game was over he joined her again and she was suffused with a warm glow of pride and happiness. But she kept it light and casual.

“Well done! You play rather well for an eminent archaeologist—don’t you?”

“So-so. I’m a bit out of practice these days,” he answered matter-of-factly. His handicap was three, and he had never had any use for false modesty. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“I loved every minute of it.”

“Good. Well, let’s go and...” he was beginning. But Louise was standing up, beckoning him imperiously. He muttered something unprintable under his breath. He had been feeling grand after the hard exercise and the thrill of victory. Now his face set in taut lines. He didn’t want to talk to Louise—but he couldn’t snub her publicly. With a sigh he got to his feet.

“Excuse me, Chloe,” he said shortly. “Mark will take you to the club and give you tea. I’ll see you there later on.”

And, later on, when the polo was over and people began heading for the club, Chloe strolled with Mark into the club grounds.

Tennis games were in progress, and through some big trees to the left she glimpsed white-flanneled figures pursuing a cricket ball. In the gardens members ambled around the lawns or sat at small tables, set among the sweetly scented roses, oleanders and frangipani.

“Except for the vegetation, it’s really a very English scene, Mark,” she exclaimed.

“Comes of our national talent for making any foreign place we occupy ‘forever England,’ ” grinned Mark. “It’s what makes other races dislike us so much.”

“Do they?”

“Of course, didn’t you know?”

She didn’t reply. She was watching the approach of Louise and her entourage. Robert was one of them. He lingered behind to whisper urgently to Chloe, “I say, the first dance, please, may I? And see you for tea?”

“Of course.”

“Angel,” he murmured, and hurried away.

Later in the clubhouse, there were introductions, new faces, lighthearted laughter, happy snatches of talk about nothing in particular. Then tea and buttered toast in a room hung with naval insignia, regimental crests and the flags of visiting yachts, and as full of a nautical atmosphere as was the club in Valetta.

Dominic didn’t join them. Later on, when she and Mark were strolling in the gardens again, Chloe saw him talking with an older man. Suddenly he threw back his head and laughed at something his companion had said. Lit that way with amusement, his serious, dark face looked heartbreakingly attractive. She wished she knew how to make him laugh like that.

As soon as the music began for dancing Robert came to claim her. He wanted to get her on the floor before it filled up. He was an expert performer and anxious for her to know it.

He was out for conquest. He had fallen for Chloe in his headlong, facile way—though not with any serious intention, for he considered that a naval career was best pursued without the encumbrance of a wife. He hoped to make the most of the short time left before his ship departed from Malta on exercises—if only Chloe would be cooperative...

Chloe recognized his type, but didn’t hold it against him. He was amusing and charming and good to look at, and she enjoyed dancing with him, even though he did hold her rather too close and would have pressed his cheek against her forehead in the American way if she hadn’t drawn back and shaken her head at him.

“You dance perfectly. Give me all the rest of the dances,” he begged.

“I promised Mark.”

“Oh, Mark. He won’t mind.”

But Mark was waiting to claim her. She slipped out of Robert’s arms and into his.

“The next—promise,” Robert urged, scowling at his brother in a manner so pregnant with meaning that Mark grinned delightedly.

She had hoped that Dominic might at least sit out a dance with her, but he didn’t appear. So she danced with Robert again, and when the music stopped, let him lead her outside onto the veranda.

The swift darkness had fallen by now, and Robert was quick to spot a shadowy corner with a couple of chairs discreetly placed.

“A drink, Chloe? Long, cold one?”

“Please.”

He called a passing waiter and gave an order.

“Quickly, before some other fellow butts in,” he said. “When may I see you again? Tomorrow?”

“You forget what I told you—I’m a working girl.”

“But Sunday—surely your Sundays are free? Vining isn’t a slave driver, is he? Let me show you the island. I can borrow a car. We can have lunch somewhere along the coast—I know some good places. A pity it’s hardly warm enough for bathing yet—we might have gone snorkeling— and there’s marvelous underwater fishing here, too—ever done any?”

“Years ago, when daddy was posted in the West Indies.”

“Oh, good. Then later, when we come back from exercises...”

“If I’m still here.”

“You’ve got to be. Anyway, we can picnic tomorrow. And you’d like to come aboard and look over the carrier, wouldn’t you?”

He’s like a nice child offering me all his toys at once,
she thought maternally, and laughed outright.

“Stop, stop,” she cried. “I haven’t even said I’ll come out yet. Truly, I don’t know if I can. You remember what Professor Vining said about social engagements. I’m—”

“Don’t laugh at me, Chloe, darling. And don’t hedge.”

He caught her hand and leaned closer. With his lips almost brushing her hair he said plaintively, “Time’s awfully short. We’ll be off on the spring cruise in no time. I want to spend every spare minute with you.”

Still laughing, though gently, she turned her head away from his lips—and felt the gooseflesh run along her arms. For Dominic had come around the corner, and was watching with a look of mocking irony that she found hard to bear.

She could imagine him telling himself how right he had been, at their first meeting on the plane, to say he didn’t want her on the dig, stirring up emotional trouble, as he called it, among the team. Here she was, before his eyes and within days, involved in a flirtation...

Robert had jumped to his feet in slight confusion. But he was not unaccustomed to such situations, and quickly recovered himself.

“Oh, hello, sir. Were you looking for someone?”

“For Miss Linden. It’s time we were getting back to Santa Clara.”

“Oh, but surely you’re not thinking of going yet,” Robert protested in a voice of doom. “I thought—can’t I persuade you to stay and dine with me here?”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible. I believe my cousin and Mark intend to stay on. But Miss Linden and I have a lot of work to get through after dinner.”

The steward arrived just then with the drinks Robert had ordered.

“Care for anything, sir?” Robert suggested, playing for time.

“No, thanks.”

Chloe picked up her drink and began to swallow quickly. She hoped it wouldn’t give her hiccups. She felt acutely uncomfortable, though Dominic’s expression when she nerved herself to meet his eyes, was inscrutable now.

She set down her glass and turned to Robert.

“Thanks so much for inviting me. I’ve enjoyed every minute.”

He said eagerly, “But we haven’t settled about tomorrow...”

She looked at Dominic for guidance, but it seemed he had no intention of helping her out.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be free,” she said in a tentative way. “Look, call me around ten o’clock, won’t you? I’ll know by then whether I’m wanted or not, I expect.”

Robert brightened at once. “I’ll call you after Sunday exercises,” he said buoyantly. “Terribly sorry you can’t stay on now. See you, Chloe. Good night, sir.”

She went and got her hat and gloves, and walked sedately with Dominic to the car under the stars. They were big and bright and seemed very near. The scent of the oleanders and ghost white moonflowers along the drive was overpoweringly sweet.

“Jump in,” Dominic said when they came to the car. “I’m sorry I had to tear you away. But you do realize, don’t you, that three months is just barely sufficient for all the work there is to be done?”

“I quite understand, Professor Vining.”

“Is that formal mode of address meant to imply that you think me a slave driver?”

She said warmly, “Of course not. Naturally my time is entirely at your disposal.”

“Sundays, too?”

“If you wish.”

She fancied she detected that mocking irony in his expression again. But he drove in silence for a mile or two. Then he said, “I did have an idea that tomorrow I would take you along to look over one or two of the other sanctuaries. Zammit excavated them, you know. I thought we’d see Hagar Qim and Mnajdra. And possibly, if we had time, the Cave of Darkness, Ghar Dalam.”

She caught her breath. Was he deliberately punishing her?

“But I’d
like
to do that,” she protested. “It sounds terribly interesting.”

“Rather a busman’s holiday. You really ought to have your Sundays off, I suppose. And I wouldn’t want to interfere with your dates with Robert.”

Was he—could he possibly be—showing the faintest bit of jealousy? Exhilarating as the thought was, Chloe rejected it.

“You wouldn’t be interfering. I only made a tentative date. And you know very well how interested I am in anything to do with our work ... I assure you I’d prefer...” she protested.

His eyebrows quirked upward ironically.

“You really prefer work to play? Admirable girl! In that case, we
will
go out tomorrow. I’ll get Lotta to make us a picnic lunch—she’s rather good at them—and we’ll try to get away soon after ten. Better bring a camera and some color films—there’s sure to be something you can use.”

He didn’t talk much more during the drive back to Mdina. Chloe sat and contemplated with delight the prospect of a whole day alone with him.

“Oh, and you might call me Dominic, as the rest of the team do. We don’t go in much for formality on the dig,” he said as they were entering the house. She wondered if he had any idea how long she had been thinking of him as Dominic.

“All right, I will,” she said. Perversely, her lips refused to utter his name. But he didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he wasn’t interested.

“I’ll be dining with my mother in her room,” he told her. “As the others are out, perhaps you’d like Lotta to bring a tray up to yours.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be down in the library to see the new batch of slides a little after nine o’clock,”